Part IV
Facing the tropical midday sun, Cassiopeia closed her eyes and breathed in the salt-spray air until she felt satisfied. And then she exhaled. She turned toward the ocean and became entranced by the perfection of the day—balmy and cloudless.
The steady breeze made her loose hair and knee-length white dress swell weightlessly. With her arms out, she frolicked to the water's edge and let the gentle waves lap over her feet without any reservation.
And then she saw him.
After one last strong, graceful pull through the water, Chris was on his feet. As he moved through the waist-deep water, he was beaming at her as if she were the only answer.
She couldn't take her eyes off him, either. It took one quick, controlled, effortless flick for him to get the wet hair out of his face. Water droplets were gleaming on his tanned skin. As he came closer and the waves dropped to the knee, his white shorts drained of water and clung to him. She didn't know which would give out first. Her lungs or her knees?
As she stepped forward, yearning to be in his arms, he suddenly ducked his shoulder and lifted her over it. He spun her around in circles until she was dizzy and giddy with laughter.
When he'd had his fill of fun and games, he set her down where the surf met the sand and sat beside her. She leaned back and he submitted to her gentle pull. Then he gave her a kiss that said, "I love you more than I ever thought possible."
Cool water lapped over them. They swelled closer together as the kiss intensified. When the water withdrew, Chris's hand grazed her leg. It started by the side of her knee, slipped under the wet dress, and slid higher and higher. He didn't meet any resistance. She was bare and eager.
He shifted. On her. Between her. She closed her eyes but felt a great deal of pressure. And then came a pang of pure ecstasy. But. . .
Cassie could hear the real-life rain falling, see the gray morning light through the slits in her eyes. But she squeezed her eyes shut before the tears had a chance to fall again.
She drifted back to sleep, and instantly regretted it.
An angry wave crashed on top of them as soon as her dream eyes re-opened. Chris sprang to his feet and helped her to hers.
She huddled in his embrace as black clouds came rushing in. They annihilated every sunbeam, suffocated every speck of blue in the sky.
The ocean waves continued to crash on the beach with a deafening roar, each one mightier than the one before. Chris and Cassie stumbled farther up the shore, but they never seemed able to escape. The safety and shelter of their jungle paradise was never within their reach.
Then, a wave appeared on the horizon that looked immense enough to dissolve the entire world. At its peak, Andromeda surfaced with the Imperial Scepter in hand.
Lightning pierced the sky and sparked from the scepter. With each flash and crash, the tsunami sucked in more water, growing higher and angrier as if it were feeding off Andromeda's fury and Cassie's fear.
Bound by water to a narrow strip of sand, Chris and Cassie had no place left to go. When it seemed as if they would die in each other's arms, Chris's sword—the one his father gave to him—swept onto the shore. He had to dive to catch it and then he disappeared into the frothy base of the colossus.
Cassie screamed for him to return, but the whir of the glacial wind swallowed her call. She pinched her eyes shut and let forth a screech, painful with desperation. When her eyes opened again, only the turbulent sea remained. The tsunami was gone . . . and so was Chris.
She rushed into the water to find him. Immediately, her feet were ungrounded, her arms heavy and useless. Every wave overpowered her, every current pulled her under. Only her love kept her from drowning. But even love had its limits.
After one particularly violent wave rolled over her, she spotted what looked like a raft. A surge of hope helped her reach it. She had half her body pulled onto it when she sensed something was wrong. She could feel its evil.
She was about to abandon the effort when a marble box arose from the center. The slab of rock on top of it rattled, scraped, and clanked around as if something were boiling below it. As the heat and pressure built, blood began to bubble over like hot lava. Then a grotesque object with five appendages escaped the box and oozed toward her. The blue sapphire wedding band on the fourth appendage was the only thing that made Chris's severed left hand recognizable.
As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand with sharp claws shot out from the watery depths and clutched her around her mouth and neck. It dragged her down below . . . from dismally deep . . . to infernal.
Cassie woke up with a gasp and a jerk that shook the whole hut. She's going to take him from me!
With more tears and a hitched breath that barely resembled a sigh, she settled back down and stared at the reedy stalks that served as rafters. Not today, she assured herself. And not unless she gets through me first.
She listened to the rain rap against the coconut-husk roof. But, before long, she lurched again, into a sitting position.
On her feet an instant later, she went over to the curtain, wondering if Chris had ever returned the night before. She had remained awake most of the night, waiting. With a subtle peek around the edge of the curtain, she saw only one lump on the floor, and that lump had dark hair.
Before another layer of worry had a chance to set in, the front door opened. At first glance, she thought it was Chris, but realized it was Scott as he entered the living space.
She released the curtain and took a quiet step backward, feeling some relief. Scott would at least be concerned about Chris, and he had the resources to do something about it.
It didn't take Scott long to realize what she realized—one lump, not two. Through the crack in the curtain, she watched Scott crouch down and shake Joe's shoulder with a firm grip.
Joe lifted his head and then cringed away from Scott's candle. "What?"
"Where's Chris?"
Joe sat up and glanced at the empty spot beside him. "I have no idea," he stated with a contemptuous shrug. "He stormed off last night and never came back."
"Why? This is not the time to be wandering around alone. If he happens to step out of the zone, intentional or not. . . What did you say to set him off anyway?"
"What makes you think I said anything?"
There was disdain in Joe's eyes that went deep. It wasn't just about her. It couldn't have been. She had never made him any promises or given him any indication that she had ever considered the possibility. Until his confession the night before, she even believed the feeling was mutual. He didn't take her—or any woman in his domain—that seriously. So, his anger toward his brother seemed irrational yet terminal, like a disease that would eventually kill him.
Scott suddenly shot back to standing, and after an aggravated sigh, he shouted, "Foolish. Both of you!" The front door slammed on his way out.
And Cassie's heart sank to a new low.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Emily Browning. Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).
~
"Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something. . ."